Setsunakuteii
by Ann Valentine
Summary: One warm night during the summer, Harry has a dream . . . (warning: contains m/m action. You've been warned.)


Setsunakuteii

Archive: Please let me know. 

Category: First time; semi-angsty 

Series/Sequel: The sequel is called "Waltz for the Moon." 

Spoiler: None, as far as I know. 

Warning: Underage smooches between two guys. You have been warned a second time. 

Feedback: Yes, please. [Drop me a line.][1]

* * *

. . .his hair touching my face . . . 

. . . the crashing of waves close to my ears . . . 

. . . my warm memories of summer . . . 

Harry shot awake, sweating slightly and breathing heavily. 

/Ugh. Stupid dream. Stupid hormones./ He'd had the same stupid dream every night since coming to the Burrow. He didn't know what it meant, and his Divination books were no help at all. ("A dream of the beach means that you are going to be consumed in a nasty and gory way by a fish no larger than your pinky finger . . .") All he knew for sure was that a) the person leaning over him in his dreams was his savior, b) another man, and c) every time he had the dream, he woke up incredibly aroused and frustrated. 

Harry couldn't sleep, not after that. He sat up and stared out of the window of Ron's room in the Burrow, watching the moonlight shining softly on the garden gnomes. 

/And it's how much longer until next term?/ he wondered, although he already knew the answer. Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. Twenty-thousand, one hundred, and sixty long minutes. 

Boredom and a calculator were a dangerous combination. 

He sighed, shifted his position, and checked his watch. The luminous face read 3:23 AM. Entirely too early for a sane wizard-if those two words could be used together-like himself to be awake. 

Harry lay down and stared at the ceiling, listening to Ron's even breathing next to him. Restlessly, he sat up again and leaned over his redheaded friend, watching him sleep. He poked him in the forehead. Ron muttered something about mutant nuclear Chocolate Frogs and batted at his friend's hand. A slightly evil grin curled over Harry's face as he poked his friend in the forehead again. 

"Buh!" Ron complained, swatting again at the nuisance. "Lay off, Ginny." 

Poke. 

"Gin-ny!" 

Poke poke poke. 

"Dangit, Ginny!" Without really waking up, Ron grabbed "Ginny's" hand tightly. "Stop it before I-" He cut off as he promptly fell asleep again. Harry realized that Ron still had a death grip on his wrist and tried to disengage himself. However, every time he got two fingers peeled off, one snapped back into place. It was quite annoying. Finally, he managed to get free of Ron's grip and rubbed his wrist ruefully. 

"Geez, for someone who looks like he could be knocked over in a slight breeze, you have an iron grip," he muttered. 

"Yeah, well, for someone who looks all intellectual, you sure are stupid," Ron said groggily, cracking open an eye to glare up at the other boy. "Aren't glasses supposed to make you smart?" 

"You're awake?!" 

"No, I'm passed out cold, just haven't fully realized it yet." Ron sat up and leaned against his wall, squinting in the cold moonlight. "Why are you up, anyway?" 

"Couldn't sleep." Harry shrugged. His brow furrowed then, and he added, "How long have you been awake, anyway?" 

Ron grinned sleepily. "Long enough." 

Harry looked away, a little embarrassed. "Sorry." 

"What were you dreaming about, anyway?" 

"W-what?" 

"Earlier, before you decided that poking me would be an enjoyable hobby. You were moaning and crying out. Sounded like you were being attacked or something." 

A chill ran down Harry's spine. "N-no. Just a dream." 

"Really? What about?" The red-haired boy crawled over next to Harry and plopped down, looking up at him expectantly. 

"You wouldn't be interested-don't worry about it-" 

"It's not that I'm worried, I'm just curious. Tell." 

Harry looked over at Ron briefly and saw that he wouldn't be deterred by multiple refusals. "Well, it starts out on a beach . . ." 

He gave a quick, rather embarrassed run-through of the dream, knowing that he was probably beet-red. 

"And it's a guy?" Ron asked, his voice wavering between disgust and curiosity. "You know who it is?" 

"No. I can't even take an educated guess." He wiped his sweaty palms on his pajama bottoms. "You aren't too disgusted . . . are you?" 

Silence. 

"Ron?" 

"Nah . . . it's just kind of surprising when your best friend admits that he's been having /that sort/ of dreams about another guy. It'll take a while to digest." 

"I understand." 

The two young men sat in silence together for a while, just contemplating. 

Ron looked over at Harry, eyes moving ceaselessly, examining him. At fifteen, Harry was just passing into puberty-his voice was cracking, much to Ron's and Hermione's amusement, and his thin frame was beginning to flesh out. If Ron was any judge, by the time Harry graduated from Hogwarts, he'd be beating the girls off with a stick. 

/But he's not interested in girls./ Ron slapped himself mentally. /Don't be ridiculous, Weasley. Of course he's interested in girls. He's had that crush on Cho for forever and a day. He's just . . . being silly right now./ 

/You're just afraid that he's interested in you./ Ron sighed and looked back down at his bedspread. 

Harry looked Ron over, eyes drinking in every detail. Having turned fifteen a few months ago, Ron was coming up on puberty like a speeding train. His voice was becoming deeper and he was slowly developing muscles. Harry wasn't sure, but he would wager that by this time next year, Ron would have no trouble finding dates. 

/And he won't even look twice at me./ Harry mentally hit himself in the head. /Why would he? And why do I care? He's straight, I'm straight. That dream means nothing./ 

/You're just afraid that he doesn't care./ Harry had to look away. 

"Hey, Harry . . ." 

"Huh?" 

"What was it like?" 

Harry turned, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. "What is what like?" 

"Kissing . . . another guy. What's it like?" 

"It's like kissing a girl, I guess . . . I wouldn't know." 

"Oh, gee, thanks for the great description. Care likening it to something I can actually identify with?" 

"I-I don't know! It's like-it's like this!" With hardly a pause, he turned, grabbed Ron's shoulders, and kissed him. 

Ron pulled away, his eyes wide. "Harry, you just kissed me!" 

"I know. I'm sorry." Harry's green eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere but at Ron. 

"Don't be sorry," Ron said, leaning forward again. "I bet it was-" 

The next thing he knew, they were kissing again, and he didn't know who had initiated it. He felt arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer. Instinctively, he gasped, his fight-or-flight reaction kicking in. 

Harry felt Ron's mouth open slightly and hesitantly licked his friend's lips. When his mouth didn't snap shut, Harry let his tongue venture deeper into the other boy's mouth, tasting him. He backed away then, breaking off the kiss. 

There was a confused look in Ron's eyes, like he didn't know whether to be disgusted, aroused, or a little bit of both. He decided to go with the safest route-stating the obvious. "You just kissed me again." 

"Yeah. I did." His eyes met Ron's, searching for answers. "Did you . . . enjoy it?" 

Ron let his head loll backwards, staring up at the ceiling. He licked his dry lips and finally answered, "Well . . . I can't say I didn't like it." He had . . . a little bit. 

The next thing he knew, there was something firm and wet making its hesitant way down his jawline. More out of surprise than pleasure, Ron gasped. His arms gave out from under him and he collapsed to the bed. Harry gently tilted his head back and continued licking his neck, his eagerness to please almost equal to his obvious inexperience. 

Ron closed his eyes and tried to still his body's shaking. Once he'd gotten that under control, he was a little disappointed to realize that sexual pleasure was highly overrated. Far from the "entire universe shrunk down to that one tiny insignificant point of contact" that was so glorified in his mother's romance novels, he found that he experienced hardly anything and was still capable of more than rational thought. As a matter of fact, if he'd wanted to recite all one hundred and one magical herbs and fungi in the book of the same name, he could have, no problem. 

/But it's supposed to feel good!/ he whined mentally. /Well . . . maybe if I moan, I'll start feeling it./ He breathed in deeply and let out a soft moan. Harry's tongue slipped up to lightly caress the back of his ear, then it darted in. 

/Holy crap!/ That didn't feel good, it felt downright gross! Ron forced himself to moan again. 

Finally, Harry sat up, his face flushed. "Well? Did you like it?" 

Feeling like the biggest liar this side of London, and hoping Harry wouldn't be able to see through his deception, Ron replied, "Yeah . . . now let me return the favor." He pushed Harry down onto his back, swallowed, and leaned down. 

Harry practically exploded with desire when Ron's tongue gently brushed along his throat. A moan bubbled up out of his throat as he writhed beneath the other boy. His hips rocked upwards of their own volition, his need making itself known. Ron made his way to the back of Harry's neck, where his tongue just barely touched the pressure point at the base of his neck. Unable to control himself, Harry cried out in sheer pleasure. 

Ron paused, unsure where to go next, since he had finished with Harry's neck. Finally, hesitantly, he moved upwards, gently licking over Harry's face. 

. . .his hair touching my face . . . 

. . . his hot breath on my cheek, driving me crazier . . . 

. . . his warm body against mine . . . 

"Oh, God, Ron!" Harry said, his voice a barely audible cross between moan and whisper. "It's you . . ." 

"What?" Ron whispered, stopping his oral ministrations. 

"You . . . you're the one in my dreams." Harry smiled up at Ron, then sat up slightly, catching him in a kiss. "Ron, I think . . . I think I'm in love with you." 

Ron suddenly pulled away, shaking his head. "No, Harry, no . . . please . . ." 

Harry followed suit, cocking his head. "What's the matter?" 

"Please-don't tell me you love me," Ron continued, his voice begging. 

"Why not?" 

"We're-we're only fifteen, what do we know about love?" Ron's voice was beginning to reach hysteria, and his eyes pleaded for Harry to take his words back, make them not true. 

"Ron, what-?" 

"Harry, I-I don't feel the same way!" The words tumbled one over another, like bullets from a machine gun. Ron choked on the last word, put a hand to his mouth, and ran from the room. 

For a few seconds, Harry could do nothing but sit on the bed, stunned. Then what Ron had said began to sink in, slowly but surely, and the full impact hit him. 

/I just said I loved him. 

/He doesn't love me back. 

/Oh. My. God./ 

It was all Harry could do to keep from bursting into tears right there and then. He shook his head, rubbed at his eyes, and set his jaw. 

/I'm Harry Potter. I can get through this./ 

"I'll be fine," he said aloud, reassuring himself. 

He drew his knees close to his chest and rested his head on his knees, dully listening to his heart shattering. 

_tooku kara dakishimete_

_dare ni mo misenai kiyowa na watashi wo_

_itsumade mo suki da kara_

_anata no sei naraba_

_setsunakute setsunakute ii_

_from a distance, i embrace you_

_there is no one else i could hold_

_because i'll love you forever_

_even if it's your fault_

_ although my heart, my heart is breaking _

_ i'll be fine . . ._

* * *

All the characters are © J.K. Rowling and Scholastic. The name of the song, "Setsunakuteii," can be translated as "Although My Heart is Breaking, I'll Be Fine," and was Aino Minako/Sailorvenus' R image song. It is © TV Tokyo and Toei. The dream thing at the beginning was modified from "Peach Girl" by Miwa Ueda. 

   [1]: mailto:ronnokoibito@netscape.net



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